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Monday, July 27, 2015

It's Back! Summer Heat

The summer heat is on! Today's meme highlights those moments that uptick our pulse or make us swoon when we read them. As all desire begins in the mind, here's an opportunity to make us want...your book. In comments, share a sexy, sensual, sizzling, or scorching snippet 200 words or less.

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Julia buttoned her blouse, then picked up her skirt from where it lay on the floor.

"Not yet." Aaron stepped to her and slipped her panties from her hips. "These stay with me."

"You can't take my panties."

"If I can't take you with me, this is the next best thing." He balled them up and stuffed them into his jeans pocket.

"But I'm at work. It's not like I have an extra pair in the drawer."

He laughed. "Go without. No one will know except the two of us."

She loved his laugh, it tickled and tingled something inside of her. "You're terrible."

"No, I'm not. I'm very good, and you, my love, are beyond my wildest dreams." He opened the office door and walked through the salon to the front door. He turned and planted a tiny kiss on her cheek. "I'll text when I can."

“You’re wet, aren’t you?” he rasped against her ear, trailing his tongue along her throat. “I can feel you through my pants. You feel so good.” He rocked against her, pushing as far as their clothing allowed.

She didn’t answer him. Instead, her tongue circled his ear, pulled the lobe between her teeth and bit down ever so slightly.

A speeding bullet of lust shot straight to his groin. Her hands grabbed his hair, fistfuls of it and clutched. If she made him bald, it would be worth it to feel this excitement from her, this unabashed want.

From the opening chapter of HUNTER'S POINT. The Scot named Rory somehow cannot get to sleep ...~He shifted his butt a little more into the lump of his lover’s crotch, rewarded by its feeble awakening and a hitch in Alex’s breathing.

“Rory.” The tone was gravelly, furred with sleep.

“Love.” He pushed subtly deeper.

“Time izzit?”

“Get some sleep, Alejo.”

“You’re a slut.”

He grinned into the dark. “Shower in my tub today?”

Warm, wet lips moved on the nape of his neck. “Shower you right now … bad boy … if you’re not careful.”

“Och, foog… ”

Silken fire lashed the crack of his ass.

“Wet me first, Alejo.”

“If you’re lucky, Laird Drummond.”

He knew Alex kept lube under his pillow. Holding his breath and spreading his legs, he waited, his ass hoisted in a mute plea for entrance. In a few moves, the man’s slick tongue was lapping his cleft, thrusting into the hole, traveling low to the taint. What heaven had he died and gone to? What angel was strumming his innermost secrets, demanding he gurgle and cry out in pure bloody joy?~

The third of the Nevada Highlander trilogy. All three are here:USA http://amzn.to/1w8PVgI UK http://amzn.to/17DWFzg

I slid my hand inside her sweats, inside her panties, and cupped around her heat for the first time. I heard a low growl, and I wasn’t sure whether it had come from her or from me. I just knew it was a sound that said, “more.”

Slow and easy, I dipped a finger into her slickness, all the way in, then out, loving the welcoming tightness that would soon stretch to fit my cock. She was fucking her hips forward and back, enjoying my finger inside her. I pulled out and teased the wet tip to her clit, then plunged back inside her, two this time, my thumb keeping a steady beat circling her clit.

Her eyes were half closed, her mouth parted. “So good.”

My hand working over her pussy was making her writhe in pleasure, but I wanted my mouth there. My heart was pounding hard in my chest, need rushing through my veins like electricity, stealing my breath, fusing that part of my brain responsible for rational thought and speech. But I fought through it, focusing on her and what she needed.

“Baby, I want to taste you. I want my tongue in your pussy.”

“Yes,” she pleaded, the tip of her tongue darting out lick her lips. Swallowed hard. “Yes.”

“Work with me,” she whispered to the man in front of her. He had only a second for a confused look to flicker across his face before she stood up on her tiptoes, wrapped her arms around his neck, threaded her fingers through the silky hair just brushing the nape of his neck, and pulled him down to kiss her. It took one interminable heartbeat for him to respond, long enough for LeeAnn to realize that this might have been the worst idea she’d ever had. Or maybe the second worst idea, right after Darrell. And then the stranger took over.

“Is this for me?” he asked huskily, slipping a digit inside of her.She threw her head back against his shoulder and responded with another loud moan coupled with something incoherent. She reached around and tugged on Nathan’s hair when he added another finger, eliciting a grunt from him. She ground into him and felt him hard against her.“See what you do to me?” He held her still against his rigidness and used his palm to knead her clit as he pumped his fingers faster inside of her. “Say my name when you come,” he ordered. “I want to know what I do to you.”“Oh…God!” She felt an aching pleasure building inside of her. She wanted to come with him buried in her, but there was no way she could stop her impending orgasm. “Nathan!” She yelled his name and screamed out her release, not recalling the last time she was so vocal.He hiked up her nightgown and rolled her onto her belly. Hovering above her, he led a trail of kisses from the nape of her neck all the way down her back. Anna pulled off her nightgown the rest of the way, not wanting it between them...

The sound wafting off the sarangi strings seemed to stroke along her inner thighs, her legs twisting to the melody underneath the full silk skirts, caressing her hips and buttocks, the length of her sari slipping on and off her shoulder, covering and revealing her face, rubbing across any part of her body to which she wished to call attention.

Her hips began to shake like they might atop a man beneath her, side to side, fore to aft, hands tracing her legs, a rhythm known only to her, which might take her blissfully into la petite mort, if a man could but imitate it.

The steps took her to her knees, her body writhing like a snake might, wrapping its coils around the legs of any man in the audience who could visualize it, her eyes in the candlelight glowing, face flushed, as though by sitting with her knees parted at a man’s feet, rubbing against his calves, her face against his groin, she might achieve her own, private ecstasy.

from TEACH ME TO FORGET Mona Karel“I didn’t know what Stefan did or did not do, and I’ve been afraid of upsetting you by accidentally doing something he did.” He searched her face for reaction as he spoke. It might have been a risky time to try to probe at her but she seemed more open with him now than she had ever been.“Is that why you keep acting the way you do?”“How do I act?”His confusion was obvious.“You keep getting me all excited, then you back off,” she said grumpily, looking astonished at her daring.His bark of laughter was as welcome as it was unexpected by both of them. Cradling her chin between his palms, he allowed the warmth of his smile to spread across his whole face.“Yes, you little nuisance, that was why.”“Oh.” She turned away, adroitly removing her face from his grasp. The coffee cup was empty again, and she set it down.He felt his agitation increasing, but waited for some kind of a sign from her. Something to tell him she didn’t equate his presence with the depravity of being Stefan’s wife. “Kissing,” she said softly.

Later, she remembered how her eyes had drunk in every detail of his appearance. The strong length of him sat very still allowing her scrutiny, maybe enjoying its intensity because she detected the upwards curve of a questioning eyebrow. His hair was still dark and unruly, but he had it caught at the nape in a thin ribbon so it did not escape and tickle his face while he concentrated on the music.She let her eyes linger a little on the planes of his face, darkened by his night beard at this time of day, and then dropped her gaze to the loose material of his shirt. The linen gaped across his chest, and she closed her eyes abruptly when she realised curls of dark hair peeped through the neck opening. Reuben’s feet were bare and she drew a sharp little breath at their vulnerable appearance on the uncarpeted floor beneath the pianoforte. He hooked some leather slippers out of hiding and shucked them on before standing up.

In this excerpt from Farewell to Kindness, the roof has just collapsed, trapping our hero and heroine in a small corner of a porch.

Rede tensed. “Anne, would you try to keep still please? The consequences of our close proximity are... shall I say exacerbated by movement?”

She blushed. After Hannah’s lecture she understood what he was refering to, especially given the sudden heat in his eyes. And her own body was reacting: her nipples hardening into tight, almost painful buds; that most private of places hot and heavy.

She took a deep breath, and regretted it as the dust set her coughing again.

“Put your mouth against my shoulder and breathe through the fabric,” Rede instructed. He shifted so that her face was nestled between his chest and his arm, and sure enough the air was less dusty. She took a deep breath. Wintergreen, with a touch of bergamot, and a not unpleasant scent of active male.

“May I?” Before she could decipher his meaning, Rede had untied and removed the cap she’d been wearing in the house, and buried his nose in her hair. He was, she told herself, just trying to breathe. It was nothing personal.

He made a noise, a contented hum. “I’ve been dreaming of your hair. It is softer than I expected. And it smells of rosemary.” That was definitely personal. The hard object nestled against the softness of her belly was in his pants, not his pocket.

She blushed still deeper, as she recalled Hannah’s description of male arousal. She couldn’t doubt that his interest was very personal.

A large Russian man forced his way into Alexandria's office while her secretary is at lunch. They've been teasing each other, and now they've come to an agreement on how to settle their "differences."

Excerpt from "Only One Man Will Do" by Fiona McGier.

After a long moment, he inclined his head toward the desk, still holding her gaze. "Nice desk. Looks pretty sturdy." "It was my Father's desk." "And now it's yours. Sit on the edge of the desk, Alexandra, so I can sit on the chair." "Now you think you can order me around?" His lips twitched. "Please seat yourself on the edge of the desk, so I can sit on the chair." She rose slowly and turned to slide her butt across the space where the forgotten papers were being pushed aside. Her skirt rode up as she slid back. He sat down on the chair and moved closer to her. His hands rested on her knees, then moved slowly up to her thighs to fondle the bare skin above the garters. His fingers stroked her gently, moving upwards until with a quick flick of his wrists he ripped through both sides of the thong at once. She heard the elastic snap, felt the momentary pain as the thong bit into the skin of her hips before it was ripped from her body and thrown to the floor. Dmitri leaned closer and inhaled slowly. "Ah, that's better. Now you are all I can smell."*****Find out more at: http://www.fionamcgier.com/oneman.html